


for when we aren't ourselves

by Phoenix_Writes



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Cheating, Established Relationship, I Will Ruin Them, I found a post on the lonelyeyes tag and I had to extrapolate, M/M, Possession, Sharing a Bed, Sort Of, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Trans Martin Blackwood, also Jon has heterochromia, have...... this, i really don't know how to tag this, maybe for spooky reasons maybe for normal reasons, this is probably crack, who knows? not me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27045568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix_Writes/pseuds/Phoenix_Writes
Summary: Lonely and Beholding love each other very much. What happens when they have not one, but two pairs of fully realized avatars to possess for date night?- or -Martin and Jon each wake up in someone's arms. The problem is, it's not each other they're waking up with.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, The Beholding/The Lonely (The Magnus Archives)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	for when we aren't ourselves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was born of a 12am chat with my best friend. It's horrible, so I had to share it. 
> 
> ....... enjoy...

For the third time, Peter wakes up with his face pressed to the back of a musty couch. There's someone, all elbows and knees and chin, on top of him, pressing all those sharp angles into his body. It's uncomfortable. It's too close.

Almost instinctually, his stomach turns, but Lonely isn't tugging at him the way it would if he'd woken up with just anyone. Instead it... it reaches out. It's wrapped its foggy tendrils around his pointy bedmate. 

Peter sighs. If Lonely hasn't taken more than a night, he has a tide to catch. 

"Elias." 

The body on top of him, who is presumably Elias, doesn't stir. 

"Elias Bouchard. I have a ship to captain." 

Elias groans, raising a head of mussed hair, loose curls streaked with gray. 

It's not Elias. 

It's the _archivist,_ of all people. Clearly no longer possessed by Beholding, judging by the way his mismatched eyes go wide in shock. 

They stare at each other, both increasingly aware of the archivist's - what was his name? - slender body settled comfortably on Peter's broad chest. He's barely an inch from Peter's chin. 

Beholding, like the evil thing it is, reaches for Lonely. Peter can almost see the archivist register the tugging, see his face flushing. 

"Mr. Lukas, I -"

Peter doesn't even try to say anything. He just sits up, arranges the archivist on the couch, and leaves. He was so light and lithe that Peter could have carried him around with ease, but that's beside the point.

If he wasn't a monster, he'd have left a glass of water for the archivist, but as it was he just left him staring blankly at the apartment wall. 

\--

Jon, meanwhile, is having a crisis, and it's only tangentially about his humanity. 

\--

Martin wakes up disorientated. It's not often he spends the night anywhere but his own flat, so it takes him a minute to recognize where he is. After that, it takes another minute to realize the implications of his situation. 

He has woken up in a room he's seen exactly once before; Elias Bouchard's office. This would be bad enough on its own. However, his face is pressed up against the aforementioned Elias Bouchard's chest, and that's awful for a whole host of reasons. 

Given that Elias doesn't seem to have woken up yet, Martin feels safe enough to look around. 

Elias's stupid ascot is lying on the desk, along with his jacket and a fancy teacup. The wanker. Two pairs of shoes - martin's battered loafers and Elias's polished dress shoes - are set neatly by the door. 

Martin's binder is folded up, right side out, over the end of the chaise.

The portrait of Jonah Magnus on the wall behind the desk is almost enough to make Martin put his face back in Elias's chest. It stares down reproachfully, as if to say _Canoodling? In my Institute? Shameful._

At the thought of the word _canoodling,_ Martin snorts an ungraceful laugh. Elias shifts, tightening his arms around Martin's waist and tucking Martin's head beneath his chin again. 

Confronted by a section of Elias's pale throat, barely an inch from the end of his nose, Martin lets out a startled squeak. Elias is uncomfortably strong. 

It doesn't help that Martin's anxiety is now in overdrive, thank you very much, and he's effectively pinned between the back of the chaise and _Jon's boss's body._

It's a little bit funny, actually. Martin is by no means a small man, and Elias's appearance can best be summed up by the phrase _evil bureaucratic pretty boy,_ so it's a feat that Elias has managed to make Martin feel about as tall as Jon. 

Elias chooses that moment to start waking up. He shifts, almost falling off the chaise, and instinctually Martin wraps one arm around his waist to keep him from falling. It's probably due to Martin's unfortunate luck that Elias falls anyway, now taking Martin with him. 

They end up on the floor, unsurprisingly. And, since Elias is _so uncomfortably strong,_ Martin can't get up off him until Elias has those unsettling green eyes open and looking at him. 

If Martin could scrub the image of a recently asleep Elias laying on the floor beneath him, he would. All he can do is get as far away as possible, which happens to be the other side of the office. It is absolutely not far enough. 

Elias sits up, not confused enough to make Martin feel better about the situation. "Martin?" 

"Yep. yep, it's me. Oh god." 

Elias scoffs. He doesn't look at Martin as he stands up and starts trying to straighten his rumpled suit, put his shoes on, and fix his hair. 

Before Martin can gather the courage to just leave, Elias looks at him with a piercing gaze. 

Elias sighs. "Well, I suppose I can buy you breakfast." 

His tone is relatively natural, but his face is like stone. His eyes just keep staring at Martin. If he didn't know better, Martin would have thought that Elias was trying to make him as uncomfortable as possible. 

"No! No, I'll be fine. I'll just pop out and get something -" 

"Nonsense," Elias says. His smile looks a little too sharp. 

\-- 

That's how Martin ends up sitting across from Elias in a café a few blocks down from the Institute, two plates, a coffee, and a tea untouched on the table between them. Martin thinks that this must be what hell is like. 

Elias just stares at him. 

Martin looks at anything but Elias. 

Finally, Martin tries to cut the awkwardness by saying "I didn't know you drink coffee." 

"I don't," Elias says, the cup of coffee not two inches from his hand. 

After this, Martin gives up on conversation and starts wishing that Elias would just kill him. That would be preferable to sitting in the café for next hour and half before they had to get back to the institute for work. 

It's a very uncomfortable hour and a half. 


End file.
